The Wolf Chief
by metalheadrailfan
Summary: Living in southern California is sometimes not all that glamorous as Wolf, the Santa Fe #3751, will soon discover that he's not in Kansas anymore.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers. It's been a while since I've done anything here. This is a new story I had been wanting to start for a while since my other story, "Michigan Fast Freight" is tied to two other stories and goes under continuous hiatuses as to not ruin any spoilers. While this one will present events from TheRagingBlueFlame's story "Waning Daylight", Sodor is not involved in any shape or form, so I am able to update this one more frequently. So I hope you all enjoy this new story and constructive criticism is always welcome.**

Wolf belongs to TheRagingBlueFlame and I thank her for allowing me to use him as the main character.

* * *

 **The Wolf Chief**

 **Chapter 1: LA**

 _Los Angeles, California – Redondo Junction, 2015_

Los Angeles. The land of Hollywood, the Sunset Strip, and Disneyland. To an engine though, these sorts of things are not that much of significance. But to some, the City of Angeles is the place to be. Freight trains on the present day Burlington Northern Santa Fe and Union Pacific hustle cargo to and from the ports. Amtrak and Metrolink trains are kept busy bringing passengers to work, to home or on grand journeys across the country.

However, at what once was the roundhouse of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, near Union Station, stood a steam engine, resting under a blue tarp. His owners, the San Bernardino Railroad Historical Society, wished they had a much more suited way of storing him, but he didn't seem to mind though. At his age, he'd rather be sleeping outside. The glossy black paint on what wasn't cover gleamed in the sun and the 'Santa Fe 3751' lettering proudly displayed on the tender.

"Rise and shine," said voice as the sudden glow the sun presented itself. The engine groaned.

"Couldn't you have done that a little more slowly, Jeffery?" he said, his teal eyes regaining sight.

"Sorry Wolf ol' boy," smiled the young man, as he climbed down from the engine's running board, "but I figured you could use some sunlight."

"Much appreciated," said the engine, now known as Wolf, "it's gets a bit stuffy underneath that thing after awhile. So what brings you here today?"

The answer reveled itself as Jeffery grabbed an animate gun and a bucket of grease.

"Just here for some routine maintenance. Gotta make sure you're in top running order for Fullerton in a few weeks. I have my razor with me too, your mustache could use a trim."

Wolf just smiled as Jeffery began his work. The old 4-8-4 gazed out the Los Angeles River and the track near it. A commuter train soon rolled passed, giving a friendly toot of its horn. Wolf, unable to respond with his whistle, returned with a clang of his bell.

"Nothing changes around here," he said to himself, "that's for damn sure."

"Well, expect that the roundhouse is gone, Amtrak now owns the lot and the Santa Fe is BNSF," chuckled a new voice.

Wolf looked to his left and saw an Amtrak P42 painted in the Phase II scheme of silver with blue and red stripes, appeared alongside.

"Well, if it isn't Kylie," Wolf smiled, "what brings you here?"

The young passenger diesel grinned. "Just got off the Sunset," she said, "Amtrak is giving me a couple days off after doing that train for the last few weeks."

"Well that was generous of them. It seems the railroads are actually giving a damn about their locomotives for once."

"Not necessarily," Kylie chuckled. On the other side of the river, a BNSF intermodal train was heading into Hobart Yard. The orange and dark green painted diesels made Wolf give a mock gag.

"I may have come to terms with merger," he said, "but those paint schemes are still ugly. Give them some red and silver and they'll be perfect."

"Or Cascade Green?" the P42 joked.

"Ugh, that's even worse," Wolf laughed.

Jeffery found himself laughing too, as continued to attend to the Northern's drivers.

Once the laughter had died down, only the sound of the animate gun could be heard as the two engines sat quietly next to each other. A thought then came to Kylie.

"Okay, I have to ask," She said, "is your name really Wolf or is it just some kind of nickname?"

The old engine laughed.

"No it's not," he chuckled, "My real name is Gus, but Wolf is my preferred name. How I gained it though, is not really glamorous story."

"Oh tell me!" Kylie insisted excitedly, "I'm gonna be here a while and I've been wanting to hear your life story for quite some time."

"Alright, alright," Wolf said, "be careful or you'll have wrinkles and we can't have that can we?"

"Sorry," Kylie blushed slightly.

Jeffery had just completed greasing Wolf's rods when he plopped himself on his pilot to listen to his tale.

"Everyone comfy?" asked Wolf, "well, I guess the best place to start would be when I first delivered to the Santa Fe, back in 1927…"

* * *

 _Kansas City, Kansas – Argentine Yard, May 1927_

In the Heartland of America, the large freight yard in Argentine community near Kansas City was bustling with activity. Engines and cars coming and going, rushing trains to west coast, or south to Texas or east to the windy city of Chicago. Trying to stay in competition with the other railroads in the area was a challenge all the engines and workers of the Santa Fe were willing to take.

Over at the roundhouse at the east end of the yard, a 3400 class 4-6-2 Pacific sat quietly as other engines either received general maintenance or waiting for their next assignment.

"I hear we're supposed to expecting a new engine today," she said, "I also hear he's supposed to be a new wheel arrangement and the most powerful on the system."

"Don't be absurd, Abilene," scoffed a 3700 class 4-8-2 Mountain, "my sisters and I are the most powerful and fastest engines on all of the Santa Fe. What could be more suited to pull the California Limited or the Navajo? Nothing, that's what!"

Adeline rolled her eyes the Mountain's boasting. "Come now Bailey," she said, "I expect you to at least treat the new comer with respect."

"She's right," agreed a 3160 class 2-8-2 Mikado, "an engine is an engine, no matter how big or small."

"Why thank you Kaw," Abilene smiled.

Bailey said nothing as the other engines talked among themselves about the new engine. What would he look like? Would he be a Mallet or a standard looking locomotive with modern appliances? No one knew, except for the folks in upper management.

Some time had passed before the sound of a high pitched whistle echoed near the roundhouse. The loud chuffing began to draw closer and closer. Everyone looked on in amazement as a large locomotive with a strange 4-8-4 wheel arrangement and a large '3751' printed on the tender, reversed onto the turntable and proceeded to rotate to face them. The young face looked nervous with all eyes suddenly on him.

"Um..hello," he said, "this is…uh…Kansas City, right?"

* * *

 **Wolf - ATSF 3751-class 4-8-4 #3751**

 **Kylie - Amtrak GE P42DC #66 Phase II Heritage Unit**

 **Abilene - ATSF 3400-class 4-6-2 #3415**

 **Bailey - ATSF 3700-class 4-8-2 #3710**

 **Kaw - ATSF 3160-class 2-8-2 #4076**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: KC Kids**

The engines in the roundhouse stared at the new comer with awe. Never had they seen an engine with a wheel arrangement that complimented the overall design so well. The silence seemed to last an eternity as the engine began to grow even more nervous with each passing second.

"Um…hello?" he said again nervously, "I am in Kansas City right? Or am I in the wrong yard?"

Abilene was the first to snap out of the starring. Being the unofficial mother figure in the yard, she was usually the first to greet new engines to the yard.

"Oh I'm terribly sorry dear," she said, "my apologies for making you nervous. And yes you are in Kansas City. My name is Abilene."

Her kind words helped the new engine relax a little bit. The other engines at this time came out of their trances, but instead of introducing themselves, they began to discuss the engine.

"I've never seen an engine like that before," whispered Bailey unsure, "I hope he's not here to replace me."

"Why would they do that?" said Kaw, who was rather impressed, "he may be a freight engine. The guys in Corwith have really out done themselves with this one."

The engines continued to talk amongst themselves, making the engine anxious again. But Abilene put a quick stop to it.

"You engines should know better," she lightly scolded, "you're making him rattle the turntable! Again, I do apologize. They're not usually this gossipy."

"Heh, heh, thank you," the engine said. With that settled the engines began to introduce themselves, with Kaw going first.

"I'm named after the Kansas River or the 'Kaw' by the locals," he said, "I usually handle local or secondary freight trains around the area. Sometimes out the Ft. Madison if needs. That's about 4 hours east of here."

Kaw nodded to Abilene, indicating it was her turn.

"As you know, my name is Abilene," she said, "I normally pull mail trains between here and La Junta, Colorado. Most of the time I'm based there, but if and when I'm here and you need any help with anything, don't be afraid to ask me."

The engine smiled as he found some reassurance from her. However now, it was Bailey's turn to feel nervous as she was still uncertain as to why the Santa Fe built an engine larger than her and what his purpose was.

"And I'm…uh…Bailey," she stammered, but quickly gained her over confidence again, "I usually pull the California Limited between here and Albuquerque, New Mexico. The California Limited is the Santa Fe's top train and my sisters and I are the perfect choice to haul such a train…"

"Bailey…" Abilene glared. The 3700 realized what she was doing and quickly subsided, embarrassed slightly. "You'll have to forgive her," she continued, "Bailey tends to brag a little, but she's got a good heart."

"Well, you pull a train as she describes who wouldn't?" chuckled the engine.

"In some cases," said a 1000-class 2-6-2 Prairie, "pulling trains like that can be a chore. As evident for what I did back in 1905. I was named Scott after I set a world record run then for pulling the _Scott Special_ from Los Angeles to Chicago in just under 45 hours. That "Death Valley" Scotty was a nut job proposing that run, but hey, it gave the railroad a ton of publicity."

As the other engines took their turns, it was then something dawned upon Abilene.

"Do you have a name?" she asked, "we've been introducing ourselves and yet we don't know yours."

"Uhh…I never really thought about it. So far I've just been called by my number."

"Well that won't do now will it?" laughed Abilene, "let me think. How about Sam?"

The engine gave a look that seemed like he didn't like that at all.

"Eugene?" Kaw suggested.

"No."

All the engines sat in silence figuring out what to call this new comer. They all tried different names from Derek to Brett to Seth, but none seem to fit.

"How about Gus?" suggested Scott.

The engine began to think it over. He seemed to like that one.

"I think we got a winner," said Kaw, "Good idea Scott. Gus it is."

Gus smiled as the he and the engines continued to talk until a group of men arrived. Two of them were wearing typical overalls, while the other was wearing more business attire.

"Well good morning, Steven," said Abilene, addressing the man in the suit.

"Good morning engines," said the man, "I take it you've met the newest member to our fleet." He paused and turned to Gus. "My name is Steven Rockwell; I'm the road foreman here in Argentine. Any assignment given to you are direct orders from me. Also I am here to introduce to you, your crew. Meet your engineer Dave Fender and fireman Kevin Pratt.

"A pleasure to meet you all," replied Gus, "I take it you're the ones who moved me here?"

"Right you are," said Mark, "we'll be getting to know each other for quite a while."

"You could say that again," chuckled Kevin.

"Alright everyone," said Steven, "you guys can get acquainted with each other on the road, because I have this order from the top. They need…uh…Gus now apparently to be in La Junta by tomorrow to begin testing."

"Testing?" Gus asked, "what for?"

"Santa Fe wants to see how well you can perform before they make the final decision to put your in regular passenger service and possibly order more 4-8-4s. They'll put you on various trains over the railroad's steepest grade: Raton Pass."

At this point Gus was not feeling so sure about himself. He didn't want to let Steven down, and certainly not the railroad itself. This whole thing was now resting on him.

"And Abilene, since you have a mail train to run shortly," Steven continued, "I'm going to have Gus double-head with you, that way he can learn the system with someone he already knows. Think you can do that for me?"

"Of course," smiled Abilene as she was getting fired up.

A little later, the two engines were running light towards the east end of the yard. There were lots of trains lined up and waiting for their engines and Gus was trying to search for theirs.

"Looking for something?" asked Abilene.

"Yeah, our train," said Gus, "which of these is it?"

Abilene let out a light laugh. "Oh dear, our train isn't here. We have to go to the station to pick it up."

"Huh?"

"Just follow me and you'll see."

* * *

Within a few minutes, they had crossed the state line into Missouri and what Gus saw next made his eyes widen a large building could be seen in the distance. Its Beaux-Arts design stood out amongst the brick buildings that surrounded it. There seemed to be nearly a dozen tracks filled to capacity with trains from various railroads running around the clock.

"Wow", he said in amazement, "I've never seen such a spectacle."

"That is Kansas City Union Station," Abilene said grandly, "this is where we pick up our passenger and mail trains. You'll be here quite a lot if you're put on the roster. By the time you arrive to pick those up the Terminal will have them ready for you."

"The what?" ask Gus.

"The Terminal," she explained, "the Kansas City Terminal Railway. We're technically on their tracks now."

The Kansas City Terminal is a switching railroad owned by all the major railroads that serve the Kansas City area, including the Santa Fe. The biggest flow of traffic for the small line is the operations at Union Station, as they transfer passenger cars to the service areas to be prepped for their next journeys. In addition, they performed transfer assignments, moving freight cars to from railroad to another.

"Hey Abilene," called a voice. The Pacific looked to her left and saw a black 2-8-2 with a white smokebox coming towards them. She wore a "Burlington Route" logo on her small, box-like tender and appeared to be about the same age as Abilene.

"Carla!" she said, "what brings you here?"

"I had a to do a transfer job from Murray Yard to the Milwaukee Road in Knocke," said the Mikado, "the usual engine got called to go do another transfer out of Neff for the Missouri Pacific, so the Q called me instead."

It was then Carla noticed Gus.

"Hey, hey," she said with a smirk, "who's this guy?"

Gus was starting to blush, which lead to a good laugh between the two older engines.

"Gus, this is my friend Carla," said Abilene, "she works for the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy or the Burlington, from what most engines like to prefer it as."

"So this is the new guy, you've been telling me about," Carla said, "nice to meet you."

"Likewise," smiled Gus, "hopefully we see each other often."

"Sure. Well I gotta head back to Murray, but I'm gonna swing by the KCT roundhouse and get some water. I'll see you later."

"Bye Carla," the two Santa Fe engines said as they chuffed into the terminal.

"She seems nice," Gus said.

"Oh she is," Abilene said, "you'll more or less see her around the junction when she's not busy. And there's our train."

The two engines were soon coupled and began their journey west.

* * *

At the KCT roundhouse, Carla watched them depart, but her eyes just seemed to stay locked on Gus.

"That engine has got himself a pair of cylinders, that's for sure," she said to herself, "wouldn't mind seeing him pulling a train by himself. Or better yet, I'd like to double-head with him."

She then realized what she was saying once she felt her cheeks turn red. She groaned.

"Oh no."

* * *

 **Scott = ATSF 1000-class 2-6-2 #1010**

 **Carla = CB &Q O-5a class 2-8-2 #4960**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all, I know I told myself that I would be able to update this story a lot more frequently than 'Michigan Fast Freight', but lately I kind with through an bad funk with a certain job I had. But now, things have gotten better and decided to get back to this. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Plains to Mountains**

Abilene soon had the mail train up to track speed as she and Gus raced out of the Kansas City metropolitan area into the rural plains of eastern Kansas. Rolling hills combined with a seemingly endless sea of golden brown made for a warm, comforting sight.

A sight that Gus quickly became bored with.

"Um…I probably should have asked this," he said to Abilene as they made a drop off in the town of Emporia, "but how far exactly is La Junta?"

"From here?" Abilene pondered, "I would say about another 8 hours at most since we have priority over all other trains."

Gus let out a melodramatic groan. "8 HOURS?!" he whined mockingly.

"Oh hush," Abilene smirked. She then glanced behind her with a more serious expression. "I do hope that sort attitude doesn't become habit. The Santa Fe doesn't tolerate engines that are lazy."

Gus was a bit surprised. He thought it best to heed her advice on this one.

"Of course not," he said, "I'm an engine and I'm here to work. Whether what everyone says at this 'testing' says I'm a success or not."

The older Pacific let out a sigh of relief, as did Gus' crew. They had dealt with engines in the past that tended to think certain jobs were beneath them and refused to pull them. In particularly the 3700s as they tended to stick their noses in the air at "lesser" passenger trains. Well, except Bailey and a few others.

"Well that is good to hear," she said, "if only all young engines had that kind of work ethic."

The two engines continued west and making great time as they charged across the Kansas plains, making mail drop-offs at Strong City, Newton, Hutchison, Dodge City, Garden City and eventually crossing the Colorado border and through Lamar before reaching their destination of La Junta. Both Abilene and the two engine crews were very impressed with how Gus handled the higher speeds, almost seeming like he was pushing the Pacific in front. The mail personnel aboard the train looked at their watches in disbelief. With Wolf on the train, they arrived in La Junta 45 minutes ahead of schedule. That was more than enough time to switch the two engines off and have another pair takeover, with a third placed on the rear.

"Why is he being put on the back end of the train?" Gus asked, noticing the 2-10-2 couple on. He question feel on deaf ears as Abilene made a beeline for the servicing area.

"Where's she in rush for?" Gus asked again.

"Getting herself clean-up and ready for her next trip," explained Dave as he pulled back on the throttle, "which is what you need to be doing in order to get ready for tomorrow."

"Oh right," Gus said, no suddenly feeling a little nervous, "the 'testing'."

Dave and Kevin didn't notice this as the guided him over to the service tracks to have his rods greased, wheels oiled and given a much needed wash.

* * *

Later that night, Gus and Abilene had become settled in the La Junta roundhouse. While it wasn't as big as the roundhouse in Argentine, it was still an impressive complex. Abilene had quickly fallen asleep as she needed the rest to take the eastbound mail train in the morning. Gus on the other hand, found sleep difficult as he wondered what the Santa Fe had in store for him. What would they be testing on exactly? Strength? Speed? Horsepower? All the above? It also begged the question as to why they wanted to do it out here and not back in Kansas City. He would find out soon enough.

A deep whistle brought the young 4-8-4 out of his thoughts and saw the 2-10-2 he had seen earlier reversing onto the turntable. The large engine rotated towards the stall on Gus' right and reversed in. The engine looked young, but seemed to have a few years under its drivers.

"Oh, hello," came a female voice, "I wasn't expecting to have company this evening. Usually everyone else goes north to Pueblo and mingle with the Rio Grande engines. I on the other hand are always stuck here because the trainmaster just loves to give me helper duty to practically every train that passes through here. But sometimes Abilene is around, which is nice."

She looked over to see Abilene almost awake due to her loud voice.

Gus said nothing, a little confused as what she was describing. The engine quickly caught on.

"You must be that new engine everyone's been talking about!" she exclaimed, "here for the testing on Raton. Oh, where are my manners! I'm Leslie. I'm a…"

"Slow down!" Gus said becoming frustrated, "first off, tell me who you…slowly."

Leslie went red with embarrassment. "Sorry, I tend to get talkative when I meet new engines. My name is Leslie. I'm a 3800-class 2-10-2 Santa Fe-type. 7 years young and still going strong like my sisters! And what would your name be?"

"I'm Gus." The 4-8-4 grinned, relieved that he could have a normal conversation, "and yes I'm the new engine on the railway. I apologize for getting flustered there for a second."

"Don't worry about," Leslie scoffed, "Are you excited for your testing?"

Gus gave an unsure expression. "I don't know. Where is it exactly that I have to do this?"

"Raton Pass, the steepest mountain grade on the entire railroad."

"How steep?" Gus gulped. Leslie did her best not make the new comer feel more nervous than he already was.

"Um…4%...," she said, "most likely they're gonna see how much you can pull up that grade by yourself."

Gus was about question that, when Abilene interrupted.

"Leslie dear," she said as politely as she could, "I have an eastbound mail run early tomorrow morning, I would like to have some sleep before hand, thank you."

"Oh, sorry!" Leslie said, "going to sleep right now. Sorry for being a chatterbox…again."

Before she did, she mouthed Gus a "good luck" and all three engines drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Gus awoke to find that he had the roundhouse to himself, with the exception of Dave and Kevin who were busy attending to his side rods.

"Looks like those two took off," he yawned, "at least it gives me time to myself before all this stuff today."

But he wasn't alone for long. Rolling onto the turntable was an engine that Gus almost laughed at his size, but wisely didn't do so. It had a 0-6-0 wheel arrangement and a box like tender. The expression on the engine's face was one that showed no enthusiasm.

"You that new kid?" he asked flatly.

"Y-Yes," Gus stammered, "I'm…"

"Spare me the introductions," the engine interrupted as he coupled up to Gus' front end, "I've got a lot of switching to do for this Albuquerque bound freight and the last thing I want to do is drag out your tender out to show off to the big wigs."

Gus was taken aback. He had never met anyone with this kind of attitude. Soon the switcher brought Gus to west end of the yard where a group of men in suits had gathered near the yard office.

"Um…thank you?" Gus said unsure. The switcher just rolled his eyes and went back to yard tracks, leaving Gus wondering what he did wrong.

"Don't let Ted get to ya," assured Dave, "I've been through here enough that he's just a grouch all the time."

"I see," replied Gus meekly. He hoped he didn't have to cross paths with him that much afterwards.

A few minutes later, the men in suits made their way over to Gus, a few of them carrying suits presumably filled with paperwork. The man leading the group was who stood out. He appeared to be in his early 70s, with a small, grey goatee, combed back grey hair and a pair monocle glasses. He proceeded towards Gus' cowcatcher and with a smile, began to speak to the others.

"There he is gentleman," he said, "our new number 3751. It's a pleasure to have a part my railroad."

Gus looked down at the man, flattered.

"Thank you, sir….um…my name is Gus" he stammered, "may I ask your name, sir?"

The man laughed. "My name is William Benson Storey. I am the President of the Santa Fe Railway. All corporate decisions are approved by me and I make sure that the railroad remains a top-class run company. And I like that you've already chosen a name for yourself. Engines need names. It gives them more personality and makes them feel that they are…cared about and not treated as just a number."

"Thank you again, sir," smiled Gus.

"Now then, gentleman," Storey continued, "let's all climbs aboard and get this underway."

Soon, Gus was coupled up to a pair of heavy weight passenger cars where all the officials were seated. Dave began to reverse him back into the yard and switched onto a track where a long line of freight cars were parked. He was about couple on when…

"Hey what are you doing?!" came a thunderous voice. There was Ted rushing towards him with a much more angry face. "That's the Albuquerque freight!" he shouted, "get off before I drag you off, newbie!"

"Ehem!"

Ted looked at the first passenger car and saw Storey leaning out the window, looking very annoyed. He quickly subsided and reversed out the yard tracks towards the roundhouse, feeling rather utter humiliated that he made himself look like a fool in front of the President of the railroad.

"Now that that's out of the way," said Dave, "what do you say we get this show on the road."

Gus somewhat nervously agreed and with a clear signal given, the train of 60 cars began its journey toward Trinidad, CO.

The trek to Trinidad was relatively the same as the run across Kansas, a flat plateau that seemed to stretch beyond the horizon, but the majestic Rocky Mountains provided a beautiful backdrop, which managed to get Wolf's mind of the officials recording is speed. Dave was also taking notes for himself.

"He seems to handle about 95," said Dave said to Kevin, "give him some time and he can probably shoot pass 100."

Unbeknownst to them, Gus had overheard and told himself that he would break that barrier someday, but for now, he focused on just trying to make a good impression.

In Trinidad, Storey ordered they stop to allow Gus to have a short rest before they tackled the mountains. He was started to feel really nervous about this part.

"Oh boy," he said to himself, "I'm not looking forward to this part."

"I don't think any engine ever looks forward to the climb up the pass," said Dave as he sat on the running board, "but the trains must keep rolling. Just be glad that this train is that long, nor is it that much of a priority."

"True," Gus said, taking a deep breath. The semaphore signal soon dropped and Gus slowly began the climb as they departed Trinidad. The flat plains quickly turned into high mountain peaks and tall pine trees piercing the blue sky.

Time seemed to crawl as Gus quickly found himself climbing hard up the grade and each minute felt like an eternity as the weight of the train strained behind him. But Gus soldiered on as his stack exhaust thundered across the mountains. Every curve almost seemed like he was going to crest the summit, but each time his hopes would get the best of him. The officials looked out in amazement as Gus was practically lifting the train by himself, no assistance needed.

"AHH!" he groaned in frustration, "is it over yet?!"

"Keep going buddy!" Dave encouraged, "when you see a tunnel, that'll be the summit. Not much further!"

'Keep telling yourself that', Gus thought to himself, but immediately took it back as he slowly came around a curve and saw the gapping portal to the tunnel, wedged in between a mountain gap. A stone sign displaying "New Mexico" stood just before the entrance. With all his might, Gus charged ahead with the heavy train and shot into the darkness.

"SHUT THE WINDOWS AND CLOSE THE CAB DOOR!" shouted Kevin as he both he and Dave quickly put their gas masks on. He did so just in time before all smoke managed to pour into the cab.

"He's really working now!" laughed Dave.

In one last ditch effort, Gus emerged from the tunnel, triumphant in his laboring conquest and quickly began his descent.

"YEAH!" he whistled in cheer, "I made it!"

His high pitched 5-chime echoed across the mountains, which caught the attention of both the engines and local residents in nearby Raton, NM, curious as to what all the excitement was.

"Contact Baldwin," Storey said to one of his men as Gus continued celebrating, "tell them to build 10 more 4-8-4s. I think we've found our new high-speed passenger engine class."

* * *

 **Leslie = ATSF 3800-class 2-10-2 #3820**

 **Ted = ATSF 2039-class 0-6-0 #2044**


	4. Chapter 4

**Been a while hasn't it? Figured it was time to get something up after months of being stuck at work/not enough time to write/laziness. This is a bit short, but hey, better than nothing I suppose.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Starry Eyes**

Over the coming weeks, Gus would routinely climb over Raton Pass time and time again in order to see if any faults were to develop. Gus would strain over the Pass with long strings of freight and passenger cars unassisted, much to all of the engine's shock. Many helper engines based in Albuquerque and La Junta feared for their jobs as with bigger and stronger locomotives like Gus would probably faze them out. Management was quick to ease their worries as, while Gus may have the capabilities to haul trains up the Pass unassisted, they would keep helper service as it was as it would very likely come to a point where Gus would need it.

When he returned to Kansas City, he was the talk of the yard.

"You're becoming our own celebrity", Kaw pointed out, jokingly.

"Celebrity?" Gus asked perplexed, "what's that?"

Everyone laughed, including himself, though at the same time he was wondering what that was. _'I'll find out at some point I guess.'_

"I have to admit," said Bailey, "I didn't really think Santa Fe could make something stronger than us 3700s, but they did and I'll be glad when more of you start appearing so we can take a break every now and again."

"More like someone wants their beauty sleep," Scott mumbled to himself, but was quickly silenced by a spray of steam in the face from Bailey.

"It'll be weird seeing all you 4-8-4's classified with all the 4-8-2's," Kaw mentioned, "given your number and all".

"Not necessarily", Gus said, "when I was out at La Junta, I heard Mr. Storey say that they would call us the 3751-class, since I'm the first one, I think. I couldn't quite hear too much due to Ted roughly kicking cars all over the yard."

"That Ted," sighed Scott, "that attitude of his will kill somebody some day."

Gus chuckled. "You should've seen him when he saw Mr. Storey was on board my train. He never said a word for the most part after that."

"HA! If there's anyone that'll shut him up, it's the head man."

* * *

Soon Gus was assigned regular passenger duties between Kansas City and Winslow, Arizona, but would always be cut off at Albuquerque to allow himself rest before the trip back over Raton. Most of the time he was left in charge of the Chief and the California Limited, but at times led the Navajo in case Bailey needed repair.

Often at times, he would hear reports from the conductors that a important national figures or celebrity from Hollywood was on board the trains, in which they were instructed to give the smoothest ride possible.

That word again.

"Celebrity".

He would ask anyone who knew what that was, but most of the time it was given vaguely unsatisfactory answers.

"It's just some soaking up all their 15 minutes of glory", Dave said one morning as they were getting ready to head west from KC Union Station, "doesn't concern us in anyway."

"But still, it must be neat to have all that attention," Gus said.

"Yeah, and not have any privacy just to take a bath," Kevin scoffed as he climbed up into the cab.

"No matter," said Dave, "the last thing we need right now is for you to the idea of fame to go to your smokebox."

And with that, he went to attend the journals on the tender. Gus just rolled his eyes. Wasn't use debating with his crew, especially in the plummeting temperatures, of which he took a disliking to.

Just then Carla pulled in with a local service from St. Joseph, Missouri. The little CB&Q Mikado had quickly become acquainted with Gus and they would meet up frequently when given the chance.

"Hi Carla," he called. Carla jumped slightly, not expecting him to be there.

"Oh hey," she said as she came to a stop on the platform a few tracks over, "didn't see you there. Looks like you're getting ready to head out again for a couple days. Good thing I saw ya before you left."

"Heh, same," replied Gus, "hey, can I ask you some…really dumb question before I take off real quick?"

Carla felt her face flush slightly. Since she had met him, she developed a small crush on him. She had no idea why these feelings suddenly appeared literally after they just met, but she couldn't help it. He was handsome. His drivers were laid so evenly…

Maybe once they got to know each other better…

' _Cool it, Carla'_ she thought to herself, _'you're getting side tracked. Just answer his question. Besides, you know how most engines get when that subject is brought up.'_

"Y-Yeah, sure", she stammered, "shoot."

"What is the hell is a 'celebrity' or an 'actor' or whatever they're called?" Gus said, "I've been trying to get a straight answer for weeks, but I'm just left hanging. I know, I know, it's a stupid question, but it's been bugging since Kaw mentioned I was like one or something along that line."

Carla was a bit surprised and puzzled.

"That's it?" she asked, "easy. That's just some type of person that's been in a like a movie or play that humans obsess over. From what my engineer has told me, they make triple the amount of money they make for practically doing nothing. Just looking pretty and handsome for camera and the press. They're a bunch of attention hogs if you ask me. I've heard some engines in Los Angeles go just as crazy for them, for the Great Father knows why!"

Gus was a taken aback by her sudden yet brief rant.

"Oh," he said, "are there any famous engines like that?"

Carla wasn't entirely sure how to answer that one.

"There's a few. I can't really think of that many off the top of my boiler at the moment. I mean unless you somehow get selected for a really big flick or break some kind of speed record, that I guess guarantees you some fame."

Gus pondered that thought for a moment. _'Speed record, huh?'_

"Don't get any ideas," interrupted Dave, "don't think I've haven't been listening to your conversation."

He sighed. "I hate to say this, since you're so young and have a big imagination, but at the end of the day, you're an engine like everybody else. And they're just people like me and your fireman. Don't take it the wrong way, I just want my engine's wheels on the rails, if you get what I saying."

"I understand, Mr. Dave," Gus assured him, "I don't mean to stir up trouble. I just let my curiosity get the best of me."

"Eh, like they all say, curiosity killed the cat," Dave smiled, as he climbed up, "now come on, let's have a good run and get this train westward on time."

On cue, an _'ALL ABOARD!'_ was heard back in the station platforms. Gus gave two blast of his whistle slowly brought the train out of the station.

"See ya in a few days, Carla," Gus called, "don't get too lonely without me."

"Haha, you're hilarious," she called back and then mumbled to herself, "kinda already am."

As Gus began to make his was out towards the Kansas prairies, he now couldn't help but something else on his mind.

' _Los Angeles…hmmm."_


End file.
